Footprints in the Snow
by an-angel-in-hell
Summary: Christine literally runs into Erik on the streets of Paris, and he notices that she is different…despite her insistence, is Christine really happy as a Vicomtess? COMPLETED as of 5.8.05
1. A Chance Encounter

Footprints in the Snow

By- an-angel-in-hell

Rating- PG-13. This chapter is ok, but it'll get intense later… yeah.

Pairing- CR for now. By the end of the fic? We'll see…

Summary- Christine literally runs into Erik on the streets of Paris, and he notices that she is different…despite her insistence, is Christine really happy as a Vicomtess?

Disclaimer- PotO is not mine. Don't sue me unless you want checks wallet 11.34. And also, the ending of this chapter pretty much is stolen from 9 Chickweed Lane, by Brooke McEldowney.

Story Notes- I stole the ending from the comic strip 9 Chickweed Lane, so… yeah. It's brilliant, so therefore not mine! Lol.

- 

Erik was uncomfortable. He had told Nadir that he would be over at seven, but he was seriously beginning to regret that, because the streets were still rather crowded. The fact that it was lightly snowing did not seem to keep people away from the shopping district he was now passing through.

As if to reiterate the mental point he had just made, a young woman turned the corner and bumped straight into him. Automatically, Erik turned his head so that his hood obstructed the masked side of his face.

"I'm sorry monsier." The woman mumbled, beginning to walk along her way.

That voice… Even though he had not heard it in almost a year, he would know it anywhere.

"Wait!" he cried, whirling around.

She turned, confusion written on her face. "Monsier?"

"Christine?" Erik asked, not daring to believe it was she.

She remained mystified for a moment, then several emotions flicked across her face. Surprise, fear, and- was it joy? He hardly dared hope.

"Erik!" she beamed up at him. "It's been so long! How have you been?"

He blinked. Whatever reaction he had expected, this had not been it. "I- I'm fine." He stammered.

"Well, it's good to see you out and about." She told him. "I'd imagined you staying in that drafty old cellar forever." Her tone was light and friendly. He imagined an ordinary person might be put at ease by it, but he was not. Everything about Christine, from the phrases she used to the elaborate dress she wore screamed falsehood. This was _not_ the Christine he knew.

"I considered it." He replied seriously. He had, but Nadir had managed to bring him out of his depression.

Christine looked mildly surprised. "Well, I'm certainly glad you haven't." she seemed serious about this at least.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments.

"Have you done any composing since we last met?' she asked. The false expression was nearly gone from her face now; Erik could almost see the true Christine underneath the falseness.

"No." he said quietly. "Everything musical… well, it reminded me of you."

Christine looked uncomfortable, and Erik realized why. She seemed to have set a limit for the conversation, a silent agreement that their talk would not go beyond light chatter. Erik had just gone beyond that limit, and it had unsettled her.

_Dear God,_ he thought, _what has that boy done to her?_ This was not Christine. This was some brainless aristocrat standing before him.

_But of course. _Said a voice inside his head. _After all, she _is _a Vicomtesse now._

"How is your husband?" he asked. It killed him to bring the Vicomte into the conversation, but he had to know.

Something flickered through her eyes, and for a moment she was completely still. Then the fake smile was back upon her face. "Oh, Raoul's fine, just fine." She told him. "In fact, he has recently struck up a friendship with the Duke of Normandy, we're going to his estate for dinner… that reminds me, I need to meet my hansom… would you happen to have the time?"

"What?" her expression when he mentioned Raoul had disturbed him. What had her expression been? It had been too quick for him to tell. "Oh! Yes, right here…" he took out his pocket watch. "It's nearly seven."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Then I really must go."

"Would you like me to escort you?" he asked, trying to be the gentleman she clearly expected.

That brief glimpse of fear flitted across her face again, and then it was gone, the fake smile in it's place.

"Oh, no thank you, it's just around the corner."

Erik's heart sunk. _Of course she doesn't want you to escort her, you fool! _He thought. _She has a husband now; she's the Vicomtess de Chagny! So for God's sake, stop trying to charm your way back into her life!_

"Will I see you again?" she asked.

At the beginning of their conversation, his heart would have soared at her words. But he had felt thoroughly put in his place by her last statement, and his pride got the better of him.

"I don't think that would be a good idea.' He said stiffly.

Her face fell, and he hated himself for causing her so much pain. "But why not?" she asked, seeming genuinely disappointed.

He sighed. "Christine…" _Why did you have to say her name? Every time you say it, it sounds like a plea!_ "You chose life with the Vicomte. It is a life in which I do not belong. I would be intruding." He finished bitterly.

"Erik, no! You wouldn't be!" she exclaimed.

"Are you so sure that the Vicomte would see it that way?" he asked.

She sighed. "You're right." She admitted.

Once more there was silence between them, broken only when church bells began to chime the hour.

Her eyes widened. "Is it seven already? Oh, Erik, I really must go, but… it _was_ nice seeing you. I mean it." There was no trace of the false side of her in her last words, and for a moment he saw the old Christine standing before him.

"Farewell, Christine." He said softly.

She smiled at him, and hurried away.

Erik stood there for a long time, and watched her footprints fill up with snow.

Aww… poor Erik… I know I'm mean to him but I do it out of LOVE! Ok, that made no sense, but please people, humor the demented authoress. And review! Now! Please.


	2. Yes, Raoul

Ok, chapter two. Now I'm sure that you will all say that Raoul is very OOC… but remember; it's been a year.

And also, thank you very much for you reviews. It means so much to me to see those e-mails in my inbox…

- 

Christine stared out the window of her hansom, silently cursing herself. Why had she done it? With anyone else it was perfectly acceptable to shut down like that, but with Erik? He knew her too well.

He would know that something was wrong, she realized. He would be able to tell… what exactly? Christine still didn't know what it was that had wrecked her marriage, she just knew that Raoul had begun acting strangely… it had all started when he had befriended the Baron L'Engle.

In a matter of weeks, Raoul was acting stuck-up and snobbish. He began to be controlling, demanding to know where she had been whenever she left the house. Christine couldn't prove anything, but she thought that when she walked around the shops, as she had done that day, Raoul paid someone to follow her.

Christine closed her eyes as she remembered the first time she had seen that side of her husband…

"_Christine, I want you to stop seeing Meg." he told her._

"_What? Why?" Christine had asked, aghast._

"_She's just a lowly ballerina." Raoul said. "It isn't proper for a woman of your stature to be seen with her."_

"_But she's my best friend!" Christine protested._

"_It doesn't matter." He told her firmly. "You're very lucky, you know. You've risen in society practically overnight. But you have a new life now. Leave your old friends behind."_

_"But Raoul-" she began._

_"Christine, you are not to see her again. That's all I have to say on the matter." He told her shortly._

_"Yes, Raoul." She said quietly._

Christine sighed. That had only been the beginning of Raoul's reign of control. Slowly, he had cut her off from everything and everyone that meant anything to her. He refused to let her sing. He had denied her everything she had ever loved.

He had said that he was doing it out of his love for her. She found it hard to believe that love could cause so much pain… but no, it could.

_Oh, yes._ Said a mocking little voice inside her head. _Love can cause pain. Whenever he hurts you, it's always out of love, isn't it? Unless it's your fault. Then you have to get on your knees and apologize, unless you want more 'punishment'._

_No! _Christine thought. _Raoul loves me, I love him, he's my husband…_

_How ironic. _The voice continued. _Didn't you choose Raoul last year because he made you feel safe?_

Christine shook her head regretfully. It was true. She had been a child then. Raoul had protected her. She laughed bitterly. Maybe she would have been better off with Erik.

Erik. Seeing him today had brought back way too many memories. Memories… Christine closed her eyes as they flashed through her mind.

_Her and Raoul kissing on the rooftop the night of _Il Muto._ Performing _Don Juan Triumphant, _and jerking the mask off of Erik's face as he declared his love for her. Raoul hanging in the Punjab lasso. Kissing Erik, at first as a desperate measure, but then the kiss had become pleasant, and she had almost thought that it wouldn't have been bad to stay with him… but he had let her go. The final memory Christine had was of her last glimpse of Erik. He had been sobbing._

When Christine opened her eyes, the carriage was pulling up in front of her home, the Vicomte de Chagny's mansion.

She stepped out of the coach and walked inside. She glanced at the clock in the foyer. It was seven-thirty. She gulped. Her conversation with Erik had caused her to be fifteen minutes late meeting her hansom.

Christine's eyes widened. Raoul was going to be angry… and he had been doing very bad things when he was angry lately.

She hurried up the stairs of the mansion, and burst into the master bedroom.

Raoul was in the process of changing for their dinner with the Duke and Duchess of Normandy, who were currently staying in Paris. He was wearing his fancy satin pants, but he was shirtless.

"Christine." He said softly. "You're late." Something frightening lurked behind his eyes. It was not anger, not yet. But it was the potential for anger, and somehow that frightened Christine more than the anger itself.

"I- I didn't meet the hansom on time." She said softly, looking away. She found that she could not continue staring into his intense gaze.

"Why not?" Raoul asked evenly.

"I ran into someone." Raoul continued to stare at her impassively. "An old friend." She explained.

"Someone from the opera house?" Raoul asked innocently. His tone, however, was mocking.

Christine's heart sank. He was playing with her. He was waiting for her to make a mistake. She would have to tell the truth; because she had no way of knowing how much Raoul knew.

"Yes." She said slowly.

"You know, I have ways of gathering information." Raoul said. "And these, these sources, if you will, they tell me that you were seen talking to a man wearing a cape. They say that he was dressed all in black, except for a white mask that covered half his face."

Fear jolted through Christine. "Raoul, I was just talking to him. I ran into him completely by accident-"

"And how am I supposed to believe you?" he shouted. "God, Christine! How serious is this? Have you made that monster your lover?" his rage was obvious now.

"No!" she cried. " Raoul, I haven't seen him in a year before today! I-"

"Be quiet!" he cried, striking her across the face.

Christine's head jerked to one side. She felt involuntary tears well up in her eyes. "Raoul," she began, looking at him. "Please, I swear-"

"Stop it!" he yelled, shoving her. She fell to the ground with a cry. He stormed about the room for a bit, and then told her, "Apologize. Swear it will never happen again."

"I'm sorry, Raoul." She said softly from the floor. "It-" she sobbed. "It'll never happen again."

"Get up." He told her, and she rose.

He put his shirt on, tucked it in, and examined his reflection in the mirror. "Get changed." He told her. "We leave in thirty minutes. I'll send your maid in."

"Yes, Raoul." She said quietly.

-

Now- I know the whole abusive-husband thing has been done before, but I hope this one will be different. It will get more complex; we will see why Raoul hurts Christine. And Christine is trying to make her marriage work. So, basically, don't worry, this is isn't another Raoul-hurts-Christine-so-she-runs-to-Erik fic.

OK, what are you waiting for? Go review, already!


	3. Erik's Realization

A/N-Chapter three is finally here! And Susan Kay's _Phantom_ is going for 73 on Amazon, so until I can get that much money, I'm not exactly sure how to characterize Nadir… I'm basically going off people's fics, since Leroux doesn't give us much about his character…

And sorry that this chapter is so short! I thought that this would be a good stopping point, and the next one should be long, anyway, so yeah.

-

"There you are. You know, I was beginning to think you weren't coming." Nadir remarked as Erik entered his sitting room.

"I was delayed." He said shortly.

"By what?" Nadir wasn't about to let the subject go that easily.

"I ran into someone." He said, sitting down in an armchair across from Nadir. "Actually, she ran into me. Quite literally, in fact."

"Who was it?" his friend persisted.

Erik looked at the floor for a moment. "Christine." He said finally, looking up at Nadir.

The Persian gaped at Erik. "And you, of course, let her go along her way without engaging her in conversation?" his tone implied that he expected otherwise.

"No." Erik said. "We talked."

"Erik!" Nadir exclaimed. "Why? Why did you have to talk to her?"

"You know I don't explain myself to anyone." He reminded his friend.

"By Allah, Erik! This isn't a game!" Nadir seemed exasperated.

"If life isn't a game, then why do I keep loosing?" he asked cryptically.

"Erik, are you turning into a philosopher?"

Erik shook his head. "No." he said, sighing.

Nadir noticed his preoccupied mood. "What is it now?" he asked.

Erik sighed again. "She was different, daroga."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"She changed… she was all fake smiles and eloquent words, designed to put people at ease, I suppose, but it unsettled me."

"So she was acting like an aristocrat?" Nadir seemed unperturbed.

"Yes, I suppose so."

Nadir sighed. "She's a Vicomtess, Erik. What do you expect?"

Erik glared at him. "I expected her to remain the same person. That boy's changed her."

"And what if she changed herself? She could have done it to fit in."

"She wouldn't do that!" he exclaimed.

"I don't know Erik. Maybe she did, maybe she didn't." Nadir shook his head. "These nobles… they're experts at hiding their true feelings. Whenever something too serious comes into the conversation, they just hide behind their perfect, smiling, mask."

Erik laughed bitterly at Nadir's use of the word. "You really hit the nail on the head there, my friend. She had this fake smile…" Erik trailed off, remembering something his friend had said.

_'Whenever something too serious comes into the conversation, they just hide behind their perfect, smiling, mask.'_

Erik nearly stopped breathing.

_' "How is your husband?" he asked…._

_…the fake smile was back upon her face. "Oh, Raoul's fine, just fine." She told him…'_

He tried to recall her, the exact way she had looked. Her face… Mentally, he compared her face as it was today to it's appearance the previous year. Her skin was lighter now. Not all of it though. It was cleverly blended in with the skin, but he now remembered that concealer had covered a large patch of skin on her left cheek.

Why had she needed to wear concealer? He remembered her as a teenager; she had never had bad acne. He could think of no reason why she would have anything on her face to hide. So why…?

But even as Erik asked himself the question he knew the answer. He knew the reason she wore concealer on her face. He knew the reason she had gone blank when he mentioned her husband.

"He hurts her." He said out loud.

Nadir looked at him strangely. "What?"

"Her _precious husband!_" Erik snarled. "Why else would she wear makeup covering only her left cheek? Why else would she hide her true emotions when I brought him up?"

"Erik…" his friend seemed worried. "You're jumping to conclusions. I'm sure that there's a perfectly logical explanation-"

"There's no other explanation, daroga!" He exclaimed, leaping up. "I have to go." He headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

Erik didn't look back. "To find out if it's true." He exited the flat, slamming the door behind him.

Nadir sighed. "By Allah, I hope he doesn't do anything he'll regret."

-

I'd like to say thank you for all the reviews. Special thanks to Aylah, who pointed out that I spelled monsier wrong in the first chapter. (I think that this is right!)

But seriously people, all your reviews mean so much to me! So thank you for reading this and thank you in advance for reviewing it:D


	4. Of Knights and Dragons

Chapter four! This is my favorite chapter so far, we'll find out more about the whole abusive thing… and I'm introducing a couple OC's, so yeah, there's them… anyway, I'm going to start thanking reviewers personally now, starting with everyone who's reviewed chapter three as of this writing.

Venus725- It's supposed to be interesting, how else would I get people to keep reading?

Kytten- Vaguely glowing knight, I like that idea! Lol, French _is_ annoying! I'm gonna take it in high school, so maybe I'll understand it better then!

rukakou- I actually wasn't trying to bash Raoul in this fic, but then my friend read it and made me realize that I was definitely fop bashing. So, yeah…

Neon signs at 2AM- Thank you! I hate those stories too, where Christine suddenly is in love with Erik and Raoul turns into an abusive bastard overnight… Ugh! So, yeah, I tried to make this one different. Cool s/n by the way:D

Phantomlover- Thank you! And yes, he really does. If I'd gotten my way, he would have Punjabbed Raoul… but ah well.

Erik'sTrueAngel- Thank you, and I agree!

Thank you all again for your reviews! Now, the reason you're here- the fic!

-

Christine and Raoul were silent for a good part of the carriage ride to the duke of Normandy's estate outside Paris. He and the Duchess frequently visited the city, so they had a small estate in its suburbs. Although perhaps 'small' was an inadequate word to describe it- it was almost twice as large as Raoul's estate!

It took nearly a half hour to get there, and twenty of those minutes were spent in silence.

"Christine, don't be angry." Raoul implored.

Before she was used to Raoul's angry side, she might have sulked, and refused to forgive him. But a sprained wrist a few weeks back had taught her that it was always safer to do what he wanted her to.

She gave him the fake smile she used so often when well-meaning acquaintances asked how she had gotten this or that bruise or injury.

"Of course I forgive you, Raoul!" she assured him, putting a sweet glaze on her words. "You're my husband, and I love you."

He smiled at her. "I love you too Christine. I care about you so much."

She forced herself to smile at him. Inside, however, she felt like dying.

-

A few minutes later, they pulled up to the Duke of Normandy's estate. Raoul was acting the perfect gentleman by now, helping her out of the coach and up the steps of the mansion.

The Duke's servants lead them to the sitting room, where the Duke and Duchess were waiting for them.

Once they arrived, the men greeted each other in loud, booming voices, and then began talking about masculine things, such as beer and hunting.

Christine sat down in an armchair across from Madeline, the Duchess, who had become a close friend of hers.

"Hello Christine.' Madeline greeted her.

"Hello, Madeline. How have you been?" Christine glanced meaningfully at the Duke.

"I have been alright, though my health," she glanced at her husband. "Has been at bit poor of late."

"I am sorry to hear that." Christine said sincerely. "I have been of poor health recently as well, but only because I have been careless." She glanced at Raoul.

Madeline nodded sympathetically. "There is a sort of epidemic going around, I believe. Many women of the aristocracy have been in poor health of late- like the poor Baroness L'Engle."

"Really?" Christine asked. "I am sorry to hear that. I do not know her well, but her husband is a personal friend of Raoul's."

"She broke her arm, you know." Madeline said solemnly. "She says that she slipped on a patch of ice, but-" she stopped abruptly. "Antoine, I think I'll show Christine that new rug we've got for the drawing room." She told her husband.

The Duke barely looked up from his conversation with Raoul. "Alright."

Madeline and Christine left the room. Once the door had shut behind them, Christine felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Now we can talk freely." Madeline told her as they walked to the drawing room. "How are you, really?"

"I'm all right." Christine said. "Raoul beat me up a little before we came over here, but I think I'm wearing enough makeup, so if it bruises it shouldn't show."

Madeline gave her and understanding look. "Antoine nearly gave me a black eye a few days ago, but other that that…"

"So, what do you think happened to the Baroness?" she asked worriedly.

"Well, you know how her husband is, I mean, he's worse than both of ours combined!" her friend reminded her as they entered the drawing room.

"Poor Monique." She lamented.

"Yes." She agreed.

"Sometimes I wonder what would be different about my life if I had protested more in the beginning." Christine lamented. "I feel ashamed that I let my husband ruin my life."

"Christine, you were blinded by what you thought was love. No one can blame you."

"I guess- I guess I really don't love Raoul anymore." Just saying it seemed to set her free. "I don't love Raoul. I don't love Raoul!" She sighed. "Maybe it's time I left him."

Madeline's eyes widened. "Christine, no! You mustn't!"

"Why ever not? Why should I remain trapped in this horrible marriage any longer?" Christine had already begun dreaming of her life as a free woman, and was not pleased to have these dreams destroyed.

"Christine, we've married some of the most powerful men in all of Paris." Madeline said quietly, as if afraid the walls might eavesdrop. "They're also some of the most dangerous. Do you know what they would _do_ to us if we tried to leave them?" she paused, letting her words sink in. "There's no way out for us now. Our knights in shining armor have turned against us."

"The knights in shining armor… they aren't really knights, are they?" Christine mused aloud. "Maybe I would have been better off with the dragon…" she smiled. "He was an angel, you know…"

-

Ok, what do you think? Review, it's easy, just press the little bluish button…


	5. The Truth Unmasked

Okay, Chapter five… just to let you know, chapter six might not come for a couple days, because I don't really know what'll happen… but I should figure it out pretty quick, though so don't worry!

rukakou- I didn't think your comments _were_ negative… and thank you, a lot of people liked that line!

Erik'sTrueAngel- Isn't it though? And thank you!

Venus725- that's okay… hey, at least it wasn't a flame! And- thanks, I'm flattered!

Willow Rose- I agree! And thank you!

HoVis- Maybe he is… and yes, I'm going to try to do that.

Kytten- He does look good in red, doesn't he?

Saber- Thank you! And yes, we will see more of Nadir in this very chapter, in fact!

La Foamy- OMG, THANK YOU! You've just inspired me…

Neon signs at 2AM- You're welcome! And thank you, I always thought the whole "perfect prince (or vicomte!) charming gets the girl" thing was a bit skeptical…

Loverofbalto- Yeah, I thought she needed a friend who was in the same situation as she was, so, Brava! Instant OC.

Thanks also to LostSchizophrenic, lillymunster, unknown, Angel, Mini Nika, and Koneko-chan16 for reviewing. (Wow, lots of reviews… that means I'm loved, right? Yay!)

A/N- Eternal thanks to La Foamy, who gave me a better idea for this chapter than the one I originally had!

And I know I haven't updated for a few days, I had marching practice until 4:10 every day this week, and then I had homework on top of that. And then the website was being a bitch and it wouldn't let me upload, so yeah…

- 

Immediately after leaving Nadir's flat, Erik headed towards the shady section of Paris. He absolutely hated going there, but it was the only place to buy information.

Upon reaching his destination, (an unsavory pub called _The Vagabond's Alehouse_) Erik strode over to the bar.

"Can I get ya anythin' Monsieur?" the barkeep asked.

"Information only." Erik said quietly.

"What 'choo need to know?" the bartender said warily. A masked man was not that remarkable in these sorts of places, but it was unusual enough to cause comment.

"I need to know the location of the Duke of Normandy's Paris estate." He remembered Christine telling him that she and her husband were going there for dinner.

"Duke o' Normandy? That information's gonna cost you…" the man looked at him slyly.

"Ten francs." Erik said, putting the money on the counter.

The barkeep eyed the money. "Ar'ight. 'Is estate's right outside o' town, ya go past that ol' cemetery…"

Erik knew that it was wrong to eavesdrop. This, however, did not stop him from crouching outside of an open window and listening to Christine's conversation with the Duchess of Normandy.

He had reached the estate just in time to see the women enter the room, and couldn't resist listening to what they were saying. He was, after all, here to get information, and the easiest way to do that was eavesdropping.

As he listened to Christine proclaim her lack of love for the Vicomte, hope swelled within him. _Maybe,_ he thought. _Just maybe I can have another chance… and this time that meddling Vicomte won't be there to interfere._

Then, Christine said something that made him actually smile with joy, which was an emotion that he had scarcely ever felt.

"The knights in shining armor… they aren't really knights, are they?" He heard her say. "Maybe I would have been better off with the dragon… He was an angel, you know…"

"Christine…" he whispered softly.

He heard her gasp. "Did you hear that?"

"No… I didn't hear anything." The Duchess said, sounding worried.

"Let's go back to the sitting room, shall we?" Christine proposed. "I'm sure our husbands will wonder what has taken us so long."

He heard the door shut behind him as they left. "Oh, Christine…"

"I think I'll go to the shops again today, Raoul."

He looked up from his paper. "When you went yesterday, that monster approached you. Christine, I'm very concerned."

"Don't worry." She told him. "I won't let Erik- th- the phantom talk with me again."

He glared at her, and stood. "What did you say?" he asked quietly. Anger was very evident in his face now.

"E- Erik." she stammered. "That's his name."

"His name? His _name?_" Raoul yelled, throwing his paper to the ground. "You would refer to that _monster_ by name?"

"Raoul, I-"

"Be _quiet!_" he shoved her to the floor.

Normally Christine would have bowed her head and begged for forgiveness. But her realization the night before had made her bolder.

She pushed herself upright. "Don't overreact. I was only-"

With a cry of rage, he kicked her hard in the chest. She immediately curled into a fetal position on the ground, struggling to breathe through the pain.

"Apologize," he told her, "Or else you'll get much worse than that."

Christine felt her resolve slip through her fingers like so much sand.

_Sorry!_ It seemed to say. _Raoul's too much for me. Maybe we'll have better luck next time._

She looked up at him, but the intensity in his gaze "I'm sorry." She said.

He didn't reply, just watched as she struggled to her feet.

"You wanted to go into town?" he asked.

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He sighed, picked up his newspaper. "Very well. You're lucky that I'm in a good mood. Be back in two hours."

"Thank you." She said quietly, leaving the room.

On the carriage ride into town, Christine tried to ignore her pain. But every time the motion of the carriage jostled her, or even if she breathed too deeply, she felt a sharp pain in her chest.

_Maybe I have a broken rib._ She thought. Surprisingly, she found that she did not care. She had reached a point where her life was so miserable; she didn't even care what happened to her anymore.

_I used to be afraid that Raoul would end up killing me._ She thought. _Now I don't care. In fact, I might even welcome death, because I have nothing now to live for._

- 

Morbid, huh? If this chapter seems weird, just say so. Originally I was going to make it completely different, so stuff might not run together well.


	6. A Long Awaited Moment

I'm so glad that I'm loved! I've gotten _so_ many reviews, 40 as of now! (For all chapters) Unfortunately, I can't keep up with personally thanking reviewers anymore. Sorry!

If you have any ideas for a chapter five title, tell me! I'll give an imaginary Erik action figure to the person who comes up with the best title!

And, I realized that I told Saber that Nadir would be in chapter five, but he wasn't. Originally he was going to be, but I changed the plot of the chapter around, so yeah…

I am _SO SORRY_ that I originally had posted all the other chapters in addition to this one… it was a mistake, I didn't mean to. Sorry!

Now, here's the fic!

Christine walked slowly down the street. The pain in her chest had faded to a dull ache, but she did not wish to aggravate it any further.

She felt numb, uncaring. If a gaping chasm opened up in front of her, she'd probably just walk around it.

That was why, when she heard a familiar voice calling her name, she did not turn around. She kept walking.

"Christine, wait!" Erik called.

She sighed. _Fine!_ She thought. _Just fine. I'll let him talk to me; I don't care if Raoul's man sees us. I am _way_ past caring about these things._

She stopped walking, and let him catch up to her.

When he did, they were silent for a moment. Then, he said. "I know about your husband."

Christine furrowed her eyebrows, which was considered utterly unacceptable for an aristocrat and was probably something she hadn't done in a year.

"What's that supposed to mean?" her tone was a quiet tribute to the energy she lacked.

If he noticed her weak disposition, he did not mention it. "I know what he does to you." Erik's voice was hard and bitter, and his eyes were filled with hate. But she did not want to back away from the hate in his eyes, as frightening as it might be. She knew he would never hurt her, because he cared… because he loved her.

"Erik…" she didn't know what to say, or think. "Raoul… he's different. He… he frightens me." She confessed in a whisper. "He gets so angry, and then he just lashes out…" she realized that she was dangerously close to crying.

"Christine…" his voice was full of emotion. "I'm sorry. I didn't know before, but if I had, I would have protected you… I would have kept you safe."

She sniffed. "I know." She looked into his eyes, and read the sheer emotion they contained. That finished her. Christine threw her arms around Erik, and burst into tears.

Then the pain from her chest hit her. A sharp, biting pain that made her feel as if someone had stabbed her in the ribs.

"Christine?" Erik asked, concerned. "What is it? Are you alright?"

His voice seemed to echo, and she felt dizzy. She swayed, and fainted in Erik's arms.

When she awoke, she was laying in a soft bed, with a black lace curtain drawn around her. She could easily see through the curtain, and she wondered what its purpose was. She had never understood it.

Never? Yes, of course. She had been here before.

She was at Erik's house on the lake.

With that realization, Christine attempted to move into a sitting position, but a sharp pain in her ribs stopped her. She cried out.

"Christine?" Erik was at her side in an instant, pulling back the curtain and helping her to sit up. He had been sitting in an armchair on the other side of the room. "Are you alright?"

"I- I'll be fine." She got out around the pain.

A couple of deep breaths later, the pain had once again faded.

"How long have I been out?" she asked.

"About an hour." He replied.

Her eyes widened. "I have to go!" she cried, attempting to get out of the bed. "I need to get home… If I'm late, Raoul will be furious." She finished quietly.

He stopped her. "Christine, you aren't going anywhere until you tell me what is going on."

"What's to tell?"

"You can start by telling me why you fainted back there."

"I think I broke a rib or two.' She explained. "When I started to cry, it hurt."

"What happened?" Erik asked.

"I- I fell down the stairs." She said quickly. Hastily constructed excuses were nearly automatic to her by now.

He sighed. "Christine… you don't need to lie to me."

She turned away from him, ashamed of her own weakness.

"It was your husband, wasn't it?" he asked.

She turned to face him, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yes." She whispered. "It was."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "Christine," he said. "I can help you."

"What could you possibly do?" she was angry now. She wouldn't be drawn in by his promises. _"There's no way out for us now…"_ Madeline had said, and she was right. Erik couldn't save her.

"It _would_ be unorthodox for the dragon to rescue the damsel from the knight in shining armor, I suppose." He said seriously.

"You- you eavesdropped!" she stammered. She was shocked, and hurt. _How dare he?_ She thought. _That was supposed to have been a private conversation!_

"How was I supposed to find out what was wrong with you?" he asked.

"You weren't!" she exclaimed. "You were supposed to mind your own business like everyone else!"

She rose from the bed, and this time he made no move to stop her. "Thank you for your concern, and your hospitality.' She told him stiffly. "But I'll do just fine on my own." She began to walk in the direction of the door.

"If you were doing 'just fine', your ribs would be intact."

She didn't turn around, but she stopped walking.

"Please. Let me help you."

She turned to look at him. "No, Erik." She said firmly. "I can learn to live this life."

"You shouldn't have to!" he exclaimed. "Christine, you deserve so much better than that Vicomte. You deserve a man who will love and cherish you."

"Who?" she asked him. "You?"

He hesitated, but his face betrayed his thoughts.

"Erik. It's over. Let it go." She said gently. She once again turned around, and she had almost reached the door, when-

"I know what it's like!" he cried.

She stopped. "What?"

"To be controlled. If you do something wrong, they hurt you. They hurt you so badly- until you wish for death. But you know they'll never kill you. Because you're valuable."

She stared at him. Had he read her mind?

"I've lived that life- it's hell. It's a hell you shouldn't have to experience." He told her.

It was all clear to her now. She could leave Raoul- Erik would help her. She had a way out. She could escape- it would be into darkness, but-

_At what cost?_ She thought. _Yes, what would he want in payment for rescuing me? My hand in marriage? _

"So you're offering to help me get away from Raoul. Then what? You carry me off into the sunset?" she was angry with him again. "I chose Raoul for a reason, Erik!"

He jerked back, as if she had slapped him in the face. Immediately she regretted her words. She went to him.

"Erik, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He looked at her with pain in his eyes.

"Erik…" she put her hand on his arm, and quickly drew her breath in. There seemed to be an electrical current between them when they made contact.

She looked into his eyes. "Oh, Erik."

With that, she stepped closer to him, and leaned up to meet his lips with hers…

ducks please don't hurt me! I know it's an evil cliffie, but… well, um… ok, I have no explanation for the cliffie… um… chapter counts on fingers seven? Should be here before the end of the week, so… yeah.

Now, GO REVIEW:D


	7. An Unexpected Discovery

'Kay, I fixed the last chapter as soon as I figured out that it wasn't just chapter six, so yeah… sorry about that. :salaams to reviewers, hoping they will forgive her:

Chapter 5 is now 'The Truth unmasked'. Congratulations, Poo:hands her imaginary Erik action figure:

shameless advertisement I've posted a one-shot, _In Sleep he Sang To Me._ Go read it! (if you want…:blushes:)

Oh, and big, BIG thanks to sbkar for your review, it really, really helped me write this chapter.

**WARNING- **please observe the rating for this chapter. It'll get pretty intense… maybe not in the way you're thinking, though!

Ok… here's the story!

Erik's eyes widened. Christine was kissing him? _Kissing_ him? _Him?_

Even as he returned the kiss, his rational mind told him that it was the wrong thing to do, that she could all too easily betray him again… But his heart (and, indeed, his hormones) told him something quite different.

So, of course he was quite confused when Christine suddenly pulled away.

"Christine?" he asked. "What-"

"I don't know why I did that!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands. "Even if I do feel something for you, there's no way that we could ever be together."

"But why not?" he asked. "I can help you get away from him. I can save you."

"Erik, Raoul would never give up on me, no matter what you did. I don't love him anymore, but I'm sure he feels something for me…" she bit her lip.

"Men like that don't love their wives! They only see them as objects that they can use, and then throw away. What will you do when he throws you away, Christine?"

"Raoul wouldn't do that, he's not like the rest of them."

_Can she truly be that naïve?_ He thought. "Stop being so blind!" he exclaimed. "He isn't- Christine?"

He had raised his voice without thinking, but she had stepped back when he did so. _She thought I was going to hurt her. _He thought. _Oh, Christine…_

"Christine, I- I would _never_ hurt you, do you hear me? You can trust me." He told her gently.

"I thought I could trust Raoul." She said quietly.

Erik felt chills go down his spine. "I'm not like him." He insisted.

"And how are you so different?" she asked in that same quiet tone.

He didn't know how to respond to that.

"You say you know what it's like?" she went on, "I doubt it. Perhaps you've been through something similar, but this is a thousand times worse. When someone you love betrays you-"

"You never want to love again." He finished. "But you will, in time."

"How do you know?" she was close to tears. "How could you know what its like, when someone should love you… but they don't."

He sighed, closing his eyes. "My mother-" he swallowed. No one but Nadir knew about his mother. But he needed this example. "My mother never loved me. To her, I was only a monster- a demon child she was cursed with raising. Even from the time I was a young child, Christine, I have never been loved by anyone… not once they knew what was behind the mask."

Christine blinked, and two tears fell down her face. "Erik… I'm sorry."

He sighed. He hadn't said that to get her pity! "My point is that I do know what it's like. Like I said, it's hell."

"You're right." She said softly. "No matter what I do, I can't escape him! He's always there… forcing me to do his bidding, through all the day- and all the night."

Erik froze. Did she mean what he thought…?

"It doesn't matter what I want." She was crying again, but softly so as not to aggravate her ribs. "The first time it happened, I was shocked. I told him I didn't want to make love…" she looked up at him, tears staining her face.

He stopped breathing. Shock coursed through him, closely followed by rage. He would _kill_ that man, if it was the last thing he ever-

"But he made me." Christine continued in a choked voice. "My own husband… he- he raped me."

Didn't see _that_ coming, didja? I know, I'm so evil to the characters… but I do it out of love! Not where the fop- uh:coughs: Raoul is concerned though… that's pure malice:evil grin:

Now- I'm debating whether to start a humor phic right now. This fic would still take priority, however, updates would be a bit fewer & farther in-between. What do you think?


	8. Tough

Ok! Wow, is this really chapter 8 already:thinks: huh, guess so!

I'm probably not going to post the humor fic anytime soon- I need to re-write what I've got, and I should finish this one, too… just so you know.

I want to try and finish this within a few chapters. I have the ending worked out and everything. I hate to say it, but there'll probably only be a couple more chapters…

And FYI- the whole "I love you!" "I know." thing isn't mine… it's from Star Wars and therefore belongs to George Lucas. The lyrics quoted below are from the song _Tough_ by U2.

- 

_Tough, you think you've got the stuff,_

_You're telling me and anyone,_

_That you're hard enough._

_You don't have to put up a fight,_

_You don't have to always be right,_

_Let me take some of the punches,_

_For you tonight._

_Listen to me now,_

_I need to let you know,_

_You don't have to go it alone!_

_- U2_

Erik gaped at her, as if unable to believe what she had said. Christine read rage in his expression.

She closed her eyes. _Why did I tell him that? Now he's going to feel sorry for me, and want to help me more than ever…_ She swallowed her tears, and tried to appear calm. "Look, Erik, I don't know why I told you that. No matter what Raoul has put me through, he is my husband."

"_What?_ Christine, how can you forgive him after everything he's done to you? Please, let me help you! You don't have to go through this alone, you know." He finished quietly.

_But I do. I've certainly earned it, haven't I? If I'm capable of making such a colossal error of judgment, then I deserve everything Raoul's put me through._ This was Christine's logic, and even though she knew, deep down, that it was severely flawed, the majority of her mind accepted it. However, she certainly owed Erik no explanations.

"I should go." She said, feeling completely miserable. Half of her hoped that he would ask her, beg her, to stay with him, because she knew that she would not be able to refuse him.

But he did no such thing. "Very well." Erik said quietly, looking as miserable as she felt. He rowed her across the lake in silence, leading her out to the Rue Scribe entrance. He opened the gate for her, and she walked out of it. Then, just as Christine was beginning to walk away-

"Wait!"

She turned, not wanting to hear what he had to say but at the same time utterly unable to leave him.

He seemed at a loss for words. "I love you." Erik said quietly.

"I know." Christine said, feeling her heart break. All she wanted to do was to go to him-

But she took a step backwards, and another, and another, and she turned around, hurrying away.

By the time she lost her resolve and looked back, Erik was gone.

- 

"I'm sorry I'm a bit late, Raoul." Christine apologized as she entered the sitting room. By tipping the driver handsomely she had managed to arrive home only ten minutes tardy. "There was traffic."

Raoul grunted, not looking up from his book. She breathed a mental sigh of relief, taking this as a sign that he did not know she had seen Erik.

"I was thinking," she continued. "That maybe we should go on a vacation. You know, get away from Paris for a bit." She _did_ want to get away from Paris- and from Erik.

"Perhaps." He said indifferently.

Christine sighed. Was this what her marriage had become? A useless, loveless coexistence? When she looked at Erik, she could feel his love for her barely contained in every word he spoke. But-

No. She could not let herself think of Erik! Her relationship with him was over, she kept telling herself that. She had no connections to him, it should have been the easiest thing in the world to let him drop out of her life.

Then- why did she keep thinking about him?

- 

Christine knocked on the door of the small house, feeling nervous. She was here against Raoul's wishes- all right, against Raoul's _orders_- but she felt that this was something she had to do. She needed to learn to disobey Raoul's orders- if only a little bit.

The door opened, and the joy she saw in the face of the one who did so quickly turned to anger.

"Madame de Chagny." Meg Giry said in a strained voice. "How nice of you to grace my humble home with your _superior_ presence. I know that you do not deem the friendship of a _lowly_ ballet girl worth much, so I will not ask you to come in."

Christine sighed, realizing that her friend (_ex-friend, perhaps?_ she thought remorsefully) was quoting a great deal of their last conversation back at her. "Meg, I'm sorry, I know I've been horrid-"

"When someone who you looked upon as a sister suddenly severs all ties with you for a reason as petty as a rise in social status, it's a bit more than _horrid._ You don't care about me anymore, you don't care about Maman-" Meg took a deep breath. "You're- you're as bad as La Carlotta ever was!"

"Meg, please, let me explain-" Christine interjected.

"Explain then!" Meg was nearly shaking with rage. "Explain why the person I considered to be my _best friend_ hurt me so much!"

"Well-" Now that the moment had come, she was rather at a loss of what to say. She couldn't tell Meg the truth- it sounded too much like an excuse. But she didn't know what _else_ to say, so- "I- it's just- Raoul-"

"Oh, _I_ see! He _made_ you stop seeing me, right? Your _perfect, wonderful, handsome _husband-" she laughed bitterly. "You're such a fool."

"What?" she couldn't fathom what her friend was talking about. Not unless Meg _knew-_

"Perhaps I'm wrong. I don't know the Vicomte well, Christine, but there are rumors- and people always said you'd regret marrying him."

Christine felt chills go down her spine. _There are rumors-_ were people talking? If so, Raoul would never let her hear the end of it.

"My mother has many friends in the Opera House- she knows things." Meg continued quietly. "As for me, Christine, I'll say it again- you are a fool."

"I don't understand- what are you talking about?" she asked, confused.

"You scorned the only man who ever truly loved you- and you'll pay for it for the rest of your life!" With that, Meg slammed the door.

She was talking about Erik. Dear God, sometimes she felt as though she'd _never_ be away from him, from thoughts of him. All she wanted to do was bang on that door and tell Meg that she _did_ love Erik-

Because it was true, she realized. The excitement she felt when they were together, the way she shivered when they touched-

It was love, and it was deeper than anything she'd ever felt for Raoul. But what could she do about it? _You scorned the only man who ever truly loved you…_ She _would_ be paying for it for the rest of her life. She'd already begun.

Sighing, Christine turned around-

Only to come face-to-face with Raoul.

He grinned evilly. She smelled alcohol on his breath.

"This is the last time you'll cross me…" he growled.

- 

Meg stamped into her room in a fury. She was angrier with Christine than she thought she ever would be. But she remembered the conversations she had overheard in the first few weeks after the… incident… with the chandelier, and that had sent her into a rage.

The Opera Ghost- or Erik, as she had never quite got used to calling him- had stayed with them for a time, fearing that it would be unsafe to return to his lair beneath the Opera House.

She had never told Christine. She had felt quite sorry for the poor, broken man. She had also felt a great deal of guilt for leading the mob to him, but no one had ever mentioned that.

Meg would take to sitting outside the door to the guest room and eavesdropping on his conversations with her mother.

He spoke of a Christine Meg didn't know. Meg quickly realized that there were two sides to her friend- A giggling, gossiping chorus girl with the incredible luck to have a Vicomte for a suitor- and the beautiful, enchanting Prima Donna that Erik had fallen in love with. The latter Christine was gone now, and the woman Erik had loved was as good as dead.

Meg reached into her closet, and pulled out a framed photograph of herself and Christine. They had had it taken almost a year ago.

She looked upon their smiling, happy faces… and burst into tears.

- 

Christine could barely move. Raoul had beat her harshly, and left her lying in the gutter outside Meg's house.

Somehow, she managed to drag herself to the door. She pounded on it several times with all her strength- and then passed out.

- 

A banging on the door interrupted Meg's cry.

Quickly wiping her face on the hem of her dress, Meg scurried to the door, and opened it.

She looked around, seeing no one.

"What…" she gasped, as she took in the sight before her.

Christine, her former best friend, the woman Meg had grown to hate, was lying on her doorstep, bloody and unconscious.

- 

:dives into bomb shelter: Don't hurt me for the cliffie… or else you won't get the next chapter! So HA!


	9. The Choices We Make

All right, you all know that this is chapter nine, but I'm just going to type that up here for my own reference…

There will probably only be two or three more chapters, not counting the epilogue. The epilogue isn't going to be much, mostly an excuse for a big, long, A/N & thank-you note.

And… I know that I said we'd get to see Raoul's side of the story, ect, and I really want to do that, but I don't know how. This might make the story a bit two dimensional, and I really wanted to show his POV, but I don't know how to pull it off… sorry!

The lyrics are from the song _Lying From You_ by Linkin Park.

_I wanna be pushed aside_

_So let me go_

_No/no turning back now_

_Let me take back my life_

_I'd rather be all alone_

_No turning back now_

_Anywhere on my own_

'_Cause I can see_

_No/no turning back now_

_The very worst part of you_

_Is me_

_-Linkin Park_

- 

"Meg?" she heard her mother's voice from the back of the house. "Who's at the door?"

Meg heard her mother's footsteps approaching the door.

"Child, what-" she gasped, seeing what Meg was looking at. "Christine!" she knelt, picking her up. "Meg, help me bring her inside."

Not knowing what else to do, Meg grabbed her (what exactly was Christine to her now? They were certainly no longer friends) ankles so that her legs were not trailing on the ground.

They lay Christine down on the bed in the guest room. "Meg, get some water and clean cloth. And fetch one of your nightdresses, they should fit Christine."

Meg didn't want to become involved in this- but she had become involved the minute she opened the door, hadn't she? And- as much as she might hate her now- Christine had been her best friend.

"Goodness child, what are you standing there for?" her mother asked. "Hurry up now!"

Meg hurriedly dashed from the room. She hadn't told her mother about Christine's snub of her, she hadn't had the heart to. She'd made up excuses as to why they didn't see each other ('She's on vacation', 'The life of a Vicomtess is very busy, Maman') and lied, telling her that they did. ('We had lunch when you were out of town') So of course she could not tell her mother that she was angry with Christine.

When she returned with the items Madame Giry had bade her fetch, they changed Christine into Meg's nightdress and cleaned her up.

"She doesn't appear to have any serious injuries, but she's been horribly beat up." Her mother said. "I must send a message to her husband at once."

She made to leave the room.

"Wait!" Meg said.

"Meg, dear, what is it?" her mother hurried over to her. "You've gone white."

Meg gulped, remembering things she had heard shortly after Christine had married the Vicomte. The whispers in the Opera House, expressing concern for Christine over certain aspects of the Vicomte that were appearently discussed quite often in the tabloids. Aspects that involved the way he treated women.

Meg had refused to believe any of this, and had worked very hard to make sure that none of these rumors reached the blissfully ignorant ears of her friend. As she looked at Christine lying on the bed, still unconscious however, she couldn't help but wonder who had done that to her friend- and if she would be here at all if she had married the Vicomte.

"Don't tell the Vicomte!" Meg exclaimed.

"But why ever not?"

"Because I think this may be his fault." She said softly.

- 

"Damn." Erik muttered. He had been crouching in the bushes outside the De Chagny mansion for ten minutes and had seen nothing of Christine or that damned Vicomte. From what he could gather, they were away, but where, and for how long, he did not know.

He would have arrived earlier if Nadir had not stopped by, claiming to be "concerned" about him, and his hasty departure the other day. It had taken him nearly half an hour to make him see that there was nothing wrong.

Gradually, Erik became aware of the sound of hooves hitting the main path to the mansion. He turned around and saw a man on a horse. As the man drew closer, he realized it was the Vicomte. As he rode around the house in the direction of the stables, Erik followed, keeping under cover.

The Vicomte gave his horse to a servant and hurried to the garden. There was an elaborately dressed man sitting at a small table.

"Sorry I'm late, Antoine." The Vicomte said. "I had something to take care of."

"Nothing too unpleasant, I hope?" his friend asked with a smug grin.

Erik leaned forward slightly, careful not to give away his position in the bushes.

"Not too. It is tiresome, however, when people do not listen to you."

The other man agreed.

"How many times have I told her?" the Vicomte continued. "But appearently she has continued associating with that little ballerina friend of hers…"

Erik noticed that, as he talked, he made extravagant motions with his hands. He was wearing a white shirt with large sleeves. On one sleeve, there was a smear. A smear that was red in color. He swallowed. He was very familiar with that shade of the color red.

That was all he needed to see. Quietly moving away from the bushes, he made his way off the grounds, and across the city to Madame Giry's house.

- 

Christine returned to consciousness with a groan. She hurt everywhere, not a sharp pain, but a dull, sickening ache, which was worse.

Slowly she became aware that she was in unfamiliar surroundings. The last thing she remembered was passing out on Meg's doorstep. She seemed to have a knack for waking up- all right, returning to consciousness- in old friend's homes.

There was a noise at the door. The aforementioned door shook a bit, but seemed disinclined to open. She heard a familiar voice say- "Oh, come _on!_" and then an exasperated-looking Meg was entering.

Christine turned her head to look at her, unsure as to where they stood after their argument.

"Oh- you're awake. I'll get mother- and- well, someone's here who'll want to see you." she hurriedly departed.

_That was awkward._ She thought, sitting up. _I wonder who's here…_ something occurred to her. Her heart sank. _Raoul? No, it can't be him, he'd have no excuse for knowing where I was, and I'm sure he wants to make it look as if he had nothing to do with this-_

Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by the arrival of Madame Giry, who seemed to be telling someone to wait in the hallway.

"So you're awake are you?" she asked.

"Erm- yes." Christine didn't quite know what to say. She'd shunned the Giry's for months, yet Madame Giry acted as though nothing had happened.

"Well that's good." She replied, opening the drapes. Christine blinked as sunlight invaded the room. "You gave us an awful fright when we found you. Meg feels horrid, she said she'd slammed the door on you and there you were three minutes later all beat up-" she stopped. "When Meg told me she thought your husband had done this- well, I didn't believe it. But then Erik showed up- somehow he knew you were here- and he told us everything." She sat down on the bed beside Christine. "I'm real sorry."

"Erik's here?" she asked stupidly.

"He's right outside. Shall I fetch him?"

"Please." Christine replied. She suddenly felt very small.

In a moment she had gone, and Erik entered. "I certainly hope," he fixed her with an intense gaze. "That this has motivated you to leave him."

Christine looked down at her lap. "I can't." she said softly.

He gave an exasperated sigh, pulling up a chair and sitting in it. "Why not?"

"Well- I- I mean… I know you want to help me, but, you- the way I feel about you…" she didn't know how to say it.

"Oh. I see. You don't want anything to do with me."

She sighed- he'd misunderstood. "Erik, that's not what I meant-"

But he wasn't listening. "It's a horrible choice isn't it? Choosing between someone who's a monster on the outside- and one who's a monster on the inside."

She didn't say anything.

"I don't want you hurt anymore." He said gently.

"Then go away.' She told him.

"What?"

"Leave me- can't you see I want you to?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I had to make a choice last year- between true love and a life doomed to become a horrible sham of an existence."

Erik stiffened- it was clear he thought she meant that she had chosen the first.

"And I looked true love in the eye- and then spat on it."

She gave him a moment to work through what she'd said. When he had figured it out (which didn't take long; he_ was_ a genius) an expression of such hope came on to his face (the half of it that she could see, anyway) that if she had not been completely miserable would have made her grin.

"You mean-"

She gulped. Her heart was pounding, and she felt a bit sick. But she had to do this… "Erik," she said. "I- I love you-" He looked hopeful again. She felt thoroughly miserable. "But," she continued, unable to meet his eyes. "You should forget all about me. You deserve better." There. The deed was done- yet she was more miserable than before.

- 

I know the cut-off at the end is a bit clinched, and I didn't want to leave it off there, but I just really wanted to get something up…

The next chapter should be up in a few days.


	10. If There Is A God

So, chapter ten. From now on, I'm going to be making some references to a controversial person- God. I am not very religious, however, many people in the 19th century were. So, if this at all offends you- you have been warned.

Thank you all SO MUCH for reviewing… I can't believe I actually reached a hundred:jumps for joy:

The lyrics are from the song _Thank You,_ by Simple Plan. (Yes, I like Simple Plan and I'm proud!)

- 

_So Thank You for showing me_

_That best friends cannot be trusted_

_And Thank You for lying to me_

_Your friendship, the good times we had_

_You can have them back_

- 

Meg sat on her bed in her small room, feeling miserable. _Christine's in there with Erik right now. You can't deny that he has… something. Not charm, but a sort of seductive power. Whatever it is, he's probably working it on her right now… Maybe they'll run off together. Christine will be lucky enough to find not one, but two men who are crazy about her._

"And no one cares about poor little Marguerite Giry, lying in the romantic gutter, waiting for the perfect man while all her friends are swept off their feet." She said aloud. Saying it did not make her feel better. Being spiteful did not suit her, but at the moment she did not care.

Last year it had all been about Christine and, she, the dutiful friend, had been there for emotional support when she was needed. And what was her reward for it? To be cast aside the moment her friend became a Vicomtesse!

Christine had taught Meg one thing, at least. You couldn't trust anyone. Not even your best friend.

A sharp rapping on the door interrupted her mental rant.

"Come in!" she called, somewhat irritably.

It was her mother. Meg instantly regretted the tone she had just used.

"What was that you said?" Mme Giry asked as she entered.

"Nothing Maman." Meg said sulkily.

Her mother sat down on the bed beside her and gave her a look. It was not a you'd-better-watch-your-tone-and-treat-your-elders-with-a-bit-more-respect look. It was not even an I-know-there's-something-going-on-and-don't-try-and-deny-it look. Under either of these looks Meg would have stubbornly tried to fight back tears and insist that nothing was wrong. The look Mme Giry bestowed upon her child was simply a mothering look that seemed to ask gently what was wrong. Instinctively, Meg told her everything, about being shunned by Christine, about always being shunted to the sidelines, and about her pining for a love of her own.

Her mother absorbed all this in silence. Then she spoke. "The problem, I believe, is that you are jealous of Christine."

Meg sprang up, furious. Her mother was wrong! How dare she come in here, win her trust and then lie to her? "I am _not!_" she exclaimed.

"Meg, calm yourself. You are acting like a child."

Meg, realizing this was true, sat back down, not without resentment.

"You two were as close as sisters when you were chorus girls together. Then Christine was put into the spotlight, while you remained in the shadows. As much as you were happy for her, it still must have hurt.

"Then Christine met the Vicomte, and throughout all her troubles with him and Erik, it is no wonder that she had no time for you. But it still hurt.

"When she married him, you thought that life would return to normal. But at least part of you must have known that it never would. She is a Vicomtesse now."

"So that excuses what she did to me, does it?" Meg asked angrily.

"It does not." Her mother said calmly. "I am not going to make excuses for Christine. I will say only this. Do you really believe that she would have cut you loose of her own accord?"

"But-" Meg stopped, and thought. "You think that her husband forced her to stop seeing me?"

"I do believe," her mother replied. "That the Vicomte de Chagny may have something to do with it."

"Oh…" Meg felt a bit of an idiot. "You won't tell anyone about this, will you?"

Her mother kissed her on the forehead. "Of course not, darling. Shall I leave you alone?"

"Yes, please." Meg said softly.

Mme Giry exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

- 

Meanwhile, in the guest room, Erik was shocked.

"You- you think you're not good enough for me?" he asked incredulously. He was still trying to cope with the fact that Christine had said that she loved him- what did this mean?

"I _know_ I'm not!" she wailed despondently.

"But-" There were many things he wanted to say, (for one, the fact that it was _he_ who was not worthy of _her_!) but none of them would come out. All that he could manage was a strained, "Why?"

She sniffed. "I'm a horrible person, I'm not worthy of anybody's love! I thought _Raoul_ loved me- and look where I got with that! I mean, if I can make a mistake that huge- I don't deserve _anybod_y- and certainly not you."

This logic had Erik somewhat confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Even if you don't take into account all the things _I've_ done- all you've ever done is love me- and I was running around with Raoul all the time- and you're such a wonderful person."

Of all the things he had been called, "a wonderful person" was not on the list. "I'm not a wonderful person!" he protested. "I'm hardly even human. I'm a monster." He finished bitterly. Despair threatened to overwhelm him, she must be mistaken- she could not love him.

She shook her head. "Raoul's the monster. What you said before- about him being a monster on the inside- that was true. He's much more of a monster than you ever were."

He had once heard a saying- "hope springs eternal!" Not being an optimistic person, he had ignored it. But now it came to mind, and suddenly, as his heart gave a leap, he understood it.

He cleared his throat. "I know how to get you away from him," Erik reminded her.

"What does it involve?" she asked.

Briefly he outlined his plan- he would wait until she was well enough to travel, then they would flee Paris on horseback- together.

She looked hesitant. "Come back tomorrow." She said. "I'll think about it.

"Alright." He said. It wasn't an acceptance, but it wasn't a denial either.

Assuming that was his dismissal, he stood and headed for the door.

"Erik?" she called.

He turned, feeling hopeful. "Yes?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "Tomorrow then?"

Erik almost returned the smile but his lips just wouldn't do it. He nodded. "Tomorrow."

- 

On his way out, he encountered Madame Giry.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"I told her my plan, but she needs to think on it. She says she'll let me know by tomorrow." Erik said.

Mme Giry smiled at him. "I'll talk to her. She'll realize what's best." She hesitated. "You may not appreciate my saying this, but God will make it right in the end."

Erik shook his head. "If there is a God, He has been none to kind to me." He said firmly.

"All the more reason for Him to be kind to you now." She said.

Erik didn't know how to reply to that.

- 

Back in Christine's room, she was trying to make up her mind. What to do? Leave Paris with Erik, or stay and be prey for Raoul? There really was no contest- but her mind was far from made up. Maybe she deserved to suffer.

As she thought, the door opened. She looked up. Meg was standing there, looking apprehensive. She entered, closing the door softly behind her, and sat down in the chair that Erik had pulled up beside the bed.

Christine didn't know what to say to her, so she said nothing. However, the silence in the room soon became so stifling that she had to say something.

"I'm sorry." Said both of them at once.

They looked at each other, surprised.

"I didn't think you were going to apologize." Said Meg softly.

"I could make a few excuses for what I did, and all of them would be valid. But nothing excuses the pain I caused you." Christine replied.

"I feel like it's my fault." Meg said. "Do you remember how cruel the rumor mill at the Opera House was?" Christine nodded. "Well, there were rumors going around about the Vicomte- about how he treated the women he saw socially. I made sure you never heard them- I can't help but wonder if things would be different now if I hadn't."

Christine shook her head. "I would have believed what I wanted to believe about Raoul. Nothing anyone said would have changed my mind."

They were silent for a bit, each trying to sort out her befuddled thoughts. Then Meg spoke.

"When I found you lying on the doorstep- I felt horrid- I guess I never really stopped being your friend."

"I never stopped being you friend either." Christine replied.

The two women embraced with tears in their eyes.

- 

Sorry it took so long- I had writer's block, and I was working on some original stuff, and then the site was being a prick and wouldn't let me update- anyway.

Review please!


	11. Euphoria

Chapter Eleven. Dang, this fic is long.

A bit of bad news- I will be away from 4/11 to 4/15. (My school Spring Break trip is to Hawaii this year, I can't wait!) I'll try to have an update for you a few days after I get back.

Much gratitude to Erik'sTrueAngel for suggesting a wonderful title for chapter 9, which was originally called "Who can think of a title for this chapter?"

I had some lyrics in mind for this chapter, but my friend wrote them and I couldn't get a copy before now- anyway, long story. I might put them in with the next chapter. Sorry about that!

That night, sleep eluded Christine. She tossed and turned in her bed, trying to think. What should she do?

To the shallow-minded, the answer was obvious. To go away with Erik would bring her not only safety, but also happiness.

But it was the easy way out. Was that what she wanted to do? She'd chosen the easy way last year…

Her tortured thoughts spun her in circles, and it was not until the early hours of the morning that she drifted into an uneasy sleep, plagued by dreams and memories.

The next morning, Madame Giry came to see her. "Well?" she asked. "Have you decided?"

Christine shook her head.

"Hmm." Mme Giry pursed her lips. "There seems to be only one decision you _can_ make."

"But it isn't that simple!" she exclaimed.

"Isn't it?" she asked, smiling at the baffled look on Christine's face. "It wouldn't kill you to let yourself be happy, you know."

And with that, Mme Giry left the room, leaving Christine alone with her very confused thoughts.

Nervousness did not suit Erik. He was the cool, confident Opera Ghost no longer- he was a man, fearful of the rejection that had followed him all his life.

When Mme Giry had let him in, she had given him a reassuring smile. It hadn't helped much.

He could put it off no longer. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on Christine's door.

Christine was ready. She was dressed in a simple blue gown that she had borrowed from Meg, and was sitting in an armchair facing the door, waiting for Erik.

She had turned down Meg's offer to break fast with her and her mother, wanting to be alone. Not that she could have eaten anyway, for nerves.

Barely five minutes ago she had made her decision. She was almost sure it was the right one.

Christine had no chance to fret further, however, because there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" she called, trying to keep her voice calm.

The door opened, and Erik entered. She smiled, despite her nerves.

"Erik." She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Please, sit." She said, gesturing to the room's other armchair, which she had pulled up across from the one she was sat in.

He sat down. "You look beautiful today, Christine- as always." He said.

For a brief moment, his compliment disarmed her. Then she smiled. "Thank you! I myself rather like this dress- it isn't mine though, I've borrowed it from Meg." What was she prattling on about? _Don't avoid the subject, Christine!_ She told herself firmly.

"So- have you decided?" Erik asked.

"Yes." Christine said softly. "I have." She swallowed again and tried to calm her heart, which was beating quite rapidly. "I'd like- I mean, I know I don't deserve it, but it's what I want, and I know it'll make you happy-" she took a deep breath. "I want to go away with you."

Erik blinked, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. "Oh, Christine- thank you!" he said hoarsely. "You have made me the happiest man in the world!"

I know it's short, but as I write this, it is 10:45 at night and I have to wake up at 5:30 tomorrow morning so that I don't miss my flight to Hawaii- I'll try to give you a nice, long chappie when I get back, savvy:blinks, realizing that her Pirates of the Caribbean obsession has carried into a Phantom of the Opera fanfic: Oh. Oops. Er- don't mind me, I'm insane. :laughs manically:


	12. Freedom?

All right, I'm back- thank you to all of you who wished me a good time in Hawaii- it was great, this one kid kept having all this horrible luck, it was hilarious- anyway, here we go with chapter 12.

Sorry I made you wait so long, but I didn't know what to do- that is, I knew what I was going to do, but it seemed so boring! But then I had a brainstorm, so now I've thrown in some more drama for you. You'll probably all want to kill me for it, but I couldn't resist! Unfortunately, I had a lot of homework this week, so I didn't get too much time to write.

And, just so no one gets confused, I have put what is supposed to be a newspaper article in here, which is in bold.

- 

Erik blinked, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes. "Oh, Christine- thank you!" he said hoarsely. "You have made me the happiest man in the world!"

She smiled, for she too was ecstatic. She had known that he would want her to accept his offer, and that was the sole reason she had done so. She hadn't been thinking for herself, but for him.

Suddenly, Christine realized how close together she had placed the armchairs. If she could move her leg a little, it would touch Erik's. She was just wondering if she could, accidentally-on-purpose, do that very thing, when the door banged open.

"Christine!" It was Meg, holding a newspaper and looking both excited and slightly worried. "You won't believe this- look!"

She handed her the paper, which had been open to a page near the back.

"Look there- in the corner."

The article was in the lower left-hand corner. Christine's breath caught as soon as she read the headline-

**VICOMTE DE CHAGNY FOUND DEAD; FAMILY FRIEND SUSPECTED**

**The Vicomte de Chagny was found stabbed to death in his home late yesterday morning. **

**Police say that soon after the approximate time of the stabbing, Duke Antoine Mattice of Normandy was seen leaving the estate. The Duke has been questioned, and he stated that the Vicomte was alive and well when he departed the De Chagny house. The Duke is now a prime suspect in the case.**

**It is rumored that the Vicomte owed a large sum of money to the Duke; these rumors, however, have not been confirmed.**

**When reporters requested to see the Vicomtess de Chagny, her personal maid informed them that they she had left the estate about a hour before the murder. She has not been seen since.**

Raoul was dead. He had been a horrible man, true, but Christine had never wished him to _die._

"Christine?" Erik asked, sounding worried. "Are you all right?"

Wordlessly, she handed him the paper. After a moment he looked up. "He's dead then. Good."

" 'Good?' How is it good?" she asked, outraged.

"He treated you awfully." Erik said. "He deserved to die."

"No he didn't!" Christine insisted. She had always known that Erik didn't like Raoul, but how could he be so cruel?

"I rather agree with Erik, Christine." Meg said quietly. "I mean- think about it."

She tried to. Could anyone _deserve_ death? She didn't think so. To be totally honest with herself, however, she was glad he was gone.

"You're right." She said. "He's dead, and that means-" her eyes widened as she realized it. "That means I'm finally free."

- 

Christine had been a bit shaken by the news of her husband's death, but she had insisted that she would be fine alone in the house for a day. Meg and Mme. Giry, however, would only let themselves go to the Opera House that day when Erik agreed to stay with her.

Meg had gone backstage and found her friend Giselle, who began to tell her about a new beau of hers.

"They don't look worried, do they?" Meg remarked upon seeing the managers come backstage.

"Why would they?" asked Giselle.

"Haven't you _heard_?" Meg asked incredulously. "The Vicomte de Chagny's been murdered!"

"He has?"

"Yes! It was in today's paper!"

Gizelle frowned. "No it wasn't."

"Yes it was."

"No, it wasn't. I read the paper this morning, there was nothing about De Chagny in there."

"You must not have read it all, then. The article was near the back, you must've missed it."

"No, I'm quite sure I didn't."

"Oh, this is silly. You there!" she said, waving down a passing stagehand. "Do you happen to have a copy of today's paper, by any chance?"

"Oh, yes, right here." He said, handing her one from his back pocket,

"Right then." Meg said, flipping to the page. "See, Giselle? It's right-" she stopped.

In the exact place that the article had been was an advertisement for a well-known dress shop.

"That's funny." Meg said. "I could have sworn that…"

As she spoke, the managers were walking by.

"Oh yes." Andre was saying. "After all, the Vicomte de Chagny has quite enough money to finance it, and it would do wonders for business-"

_The Vicomte de Chagny has quite enough money…_ Meg paled. It was true, he was rich. Rich enough to plant an article in the paper in place of an ad, and have that paper delivered to her house? Probably.

A chill ran through her. The Vicomte had _known_ that Christine was at her house… He had planted the article to throw them off-guard, she realized.

"I have to go." Meg said. Dropping the paper, she ran to find her mother.

- 

Alright… I really didn't want to end it there, but I will put up the next chapter probably tomorrow… it'll be short, because I wanted it to be a part of this chapter, originally, but I really wanted to post something today, and I need to go to bed right now…


	13. The Value of Life

As promised… chapter 13. I'm sorry it's so short, but you'll see, once you read it, why I had to leave it off where I did… :grins evilly:

- 

_One minute you're on top,_

_The next you're not,_

_Watch it drop._

_Making your heart stop,_

_Just before you hit the floor._

_One minute you're on top,_

_The next you're not,_

_Missed your shot,_

_Making your heart stop._

_You think you won,_

_And then it's all gone._

_-Linkin Park_

- 

Upon recovering from the nasty shock of discovering that her abusive husband, who she had loved faithfully until two days ago, was dead, Christine discovered that she was rather hungry.

Erik had insisted upon making her breakfast, but since she did not wish to be alone, she had accompanied him to the kitchen, where they engaged in light conversation.

When the knock at the door came, Christine insisted upon answering it herself.

When it opened, she received the shock of her life. Raoul was standing there, wearing a foppish looking outfit and an evil grin.

"You! But you're supposed to be dead!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, I know.' He said. "It was rather ingenious of me, wasn't it? Although, it was really rather simple to carry out. Bribe the editor of he local paper to run an article about my death in place of an advertisement. Throw in just enough details so that you would believe it- and then sit back and watch events unfold." As he spoke, he walked lazily forward. Christine backed away from him. "Now look where we've gotten ourselves. You and I, all alone in this house. My, my, my. How very… _unfortunate_ for you, my dear."

Her eyes widened. Raoul didn't know that Erik was in the house with her! _Thank you, God. _She thought._ Thank you, thank you._

"Now," Raoul continued. "Why don't we-"

"Christine?" It was Erik. "What-" He saw Raoul. "I thought you were dead." He said.

"Sorry to disappoint." Raoul replied.

"You don't seem afraid of me." Erik observed, stepping between Raoul and Christine.

"You, monsieur, are a hideous _monster._" Raoul drawled. "And I haven't been afraid of one of _those_ since I was seven."

Erik balked at the 'monster' comment, but managed to recover rather quickly. "You underestimate me, M. le Vicomte." He said casually. "That is a mistake." He took a step towards Raoul, but Raoul suddenly pulled a pistol out of his belt.

"Don't come any closer!" he said.

Erik looked straight down the barrel of Raoul's gun- and laughed.

"You fool." He said quietly. "Do you think I value my life?"

Raoul, for a moment, did not know what to do. Then his eyes rested on Christine, who was halfway behind Erik. He shot his arm out, and, before Erik could stop him, pulled Christine towards him, pointing the gun at her head.

"Stay where you are, or I shoot!" Raoul cried.

Erik froze.

Christine found herself incapable of thought. Well, not entirely. But she didn't think that a perpetual mental cry of _please, God no! _really counted.

"Now," said Raoul, backing towards the door. "We'll just be going now."

Here Raoul de Chagny made a grave error. He turned around.

Before anyone could blink, Erik had reached into his cloak, grabbed his lasso, thrown in around Raoul's neck, and pulled. A moment later, Raoul's gun went off, and both he and Christine fell to the floor.

- 

This is by far the evilest cliffie I've given you yet, no? I just have one thing to say- review, and I shall deliver chapter 14!


	14. Life and Death

In honor of the release of the DVD, I have uploaded, finally. 

Also, I'd like to mention policy on lyrics (if you have no clue what I'm talking about, look on the main page). If you are a member of I urge you to e-mail them requesting that they change their policy. I asked them if we could continue posting lyrics if we gave the artist credit. If a whole mess of people complain, maybe they'll change their policy.

- 

As Raoul's gun fired, Erik froze momentarily, dropping his lasso. Then something inside him snapped.

"No!" he yelled. He ran towards the doorway, feet hardly touching the ground. He was hardly capable of thought, all he knew was that Christine was the only bright spot in his life, the only thing that had kept him going- and the Vicomte's gun had been pointed at her head when it went off.

When he reached them, he dragged the motionless Raoul away from Christine. His neck was broken, and he was quite obviously dead.

Christine was lying on the ground, pale and unmoving. Shaking, he lifted her upper body off the floor.

"Christine? Can you hear me?" he asked.

She did not respond. He started to call her name again, but then his hand, which was holding Christine's head, registered something. Something wet.

Heart sinking, he took his hand away, only to have his worst fears were confirmed. His hand was covered in Christine's blood.

"No." he whispered. He moved his hand to her neck, feeling for a pulse. He did not find one.

_"NO!"_ he screamed. Burying his head in Christine's hair, Erik burst into tears.

- 

Christine felt like she was waking from a deep sleep. There was pain creeping into her existence, but not much. Her head throbbed, but other than that, she felt fine.

"Erik?" she whispered, still not quite sure what was going on. All she knew was that someone was holding her…

"Christine?" he asked, looking into her face. "You're alive!"

"W- why wouldn't I be?" she asked, confused. Erik let go of her (he seemed a bit reluctant to do so) and she sat up.

"Your head…"

She touched her hand to the place where her head hurt, grimacing when it came back wet with blood. "The bullet must have just grazed it."

"Oh, Christine." He embraced her. She leaned against him, taking comfort in his arms. "I thought I'd lost you." he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"What happened to Raoul?" she asked.

Erik stiffened. "He's dead."

She pulled away from him. "Dead?"

He nodded, pointing to where his body lay. Christine looked upon it and shuddered.

"I suppose it's all for the best." She said softly.

He nodded. "It is."

They were silent for a moment, and then he said, "Someone will have head that gunshot."

"Do you think anyone will come to investigate?" she asked, fearful.

"I know it." He said. "I should leave."

He stood, and extended a hand to help her up. She grabbed it, and stood beside him.

"Where will you go?" she asked.

"Christine, I've just killed a vicomte, and I'm wanted for other crimes… I fear I must flee Paris."

Her eyes widened. _No!_ she thought. _He can't go!_ She was about to tell him as much, but right before she spoke, she changed her mind. Instead she said, "Take me with you?"

"I can't."

"Please?"

"Are you sure?"

"There is nothing to keep me here."

"What about Meg, Madame Giry?"

"They will understand."

Erik hesitated. "Is this the life you want?" He asked, taking her hand.

"It is a life with you," she said. "And that is all that matters… I love you, Erik."

"And I love you, Christine." He said, stepping closer to her. "So much…"

"Erik…" she leaned towards him, intending to meet his lips with hers.

A loud pounding on the door interrupted them. "Open up in there!" someone yelled.

She gasped fearfully. "Erik-"

"Is there a back door?" he asked.

She nodded. "It leads to an alley."

"Perfect." He said.

She led him to a door at the back of the house. Erik opened it and took her hand. "I love you." he said.

She smiled. "I love you too."

Hand in hand, they stepped out into the alleyway, and the beginning of their new life.

- 

Ok, ok, the end is corny… but sweet, right? This is the last chapter, but fear not, the epilogue is coming! So if there's anything you'd like to know, tell me, and I'll try to get everything wrapped up.


	15. Epilogue

This is the final installment of this story. We all know what that means- we must say goodbye…

I would like to thank everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story. There are too many names to list, but I would like to especially thank- Kytten, (for being my first reviewer) Alyah, (for correcting my spelling) Poo, (for suggesting a title for chapter five) Erik'sTrueAngel, (for suggesting a title for chapter nine) and especially sbkar, who gave me insights into what it is actually like to be abused and for helping me to write Christine and what she would probably be thinking, wanting, doing, ect. Again, thank you all!

And, by the way- bonus points to all who can guess where I stole Erik's last name from.

- 

The recently widowed Vicomtess de Chagny and the elusive Phantom of the Opera were never heard from again.

That is what the authorities will tell you.

There are, however, several facts that may lead you to believe otherwise-

The first- three days after Christine and Erik's flight from Paris, a woman calling herself Christine Daee´ and a masked man named Erik Montag were married, with no elaborate ceremony, in a small village chapel.

The second- for years, Meg Giry and her mother had a continued correspondence with two people named Christine and Erik Montag.

The third- the same Paris authorities that were searching for the Phantom and the missing Vicomtess received a tip from one Christine Montag accusing various nobles (including the Duke of Normandy and the Baron L'Engle) of mistreating their wives. When the dust settled, the Duchess of Normandy supported the claims of the tipster, and many women were better off as a result.

Those Paris authorities that I have mentioned have the case of the missing Vicomtess and the murder of the Vicomte de Chagny in the 'cold' section. They have no idea of the _real _story.

Only you, my dear readers, are privileged enough to know that.

**THE END**

- 

For those of you who didn't guess it, Erik's last name, Montag, is stolen from Guy Montag, the main character in _Fahrenhiet 451_, a wonderful sci-fi novel by Ray Bradbury.

I only have one more thing to say- goodbye, and thank you for reading.

Your Authoress,

an-angel-in-hell, aka Emma


End file.
